


Tigan

by Penstakingly



Series: Lives of Dax stories [3]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Canon Related, Other, Tears of the Prophets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:50:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3661200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penstakingly/pseuds/Penstakingly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the quietest and most routine hours are an unknown preamble to the greatest changes in our lives.  How many times are they remarked upon with a ‘What if I had known?’ or a ‘Can you believe I had only just sat down to breakfast that morning thinking that it was going to be just another routine day?’ As though in an attempt to ground ourselves, we pay an homage to the contrast the event has brought to our lives by underscoring it with notes of humor. Perhaps we are? Making one's own luck, as the saying goes, is to be comfortable with ourselves. To better know ourselves. To know who you are, Jadzia once said, it is important to know who you've been. To prepare oneself to deal with the sudden unknown, it is important to remember what went through our minds moments beforehand. (Counterpart to S6E26 "Tears of the Prophets")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old story I wrote over a year ago. I'll be re-editing some of the chapters, so there may be a few days between updates. It is based off of the episode as well as a short story called "Second Star to the Right..." from _The Lives of Dax_. Both, respectively, are a wonderful vignette and book.

**On a _Sovereign-class_ vessel ** returning to the field of fire, Captain Raymer had just turned from ordering her second Hazlenut coffee at the replicator. As she peered down into the mug, to make sure it really was light on the cream, she smiled to herself. Appearing in her mind, her wife, Kahlee was looking over her shoulder and pulling back, ebony face cringed in disgust as she issued an audible shiver. ‘Eugh! Emily Raymer! I don’t know how you can stand the taste of that coffee! It looks like _mud!_ ’ She and her wife had never understood each other when it came to coffee. Kahlee made sure that hers were as milky as the Milky Way itself when all the lights were dimmed and he looked out into the vastness of space toward the unknown, unexplored center of their galaxy. The radiation levels at the galactic core was still too high for any deflector configuration to block out for even an instant. It had been calculated that it would take all of a Sovereign-class starship’s power to hold the radiation at bay for four-and-a-half seconds, and that was only theoretical. It did not take into account for the instant burnout to the emitters for the power whose load would rise far and above their tolerance rating. No known configuration had been but from simulation to circuitry. The captain shook her head from her musing, then pulled out the maroon chair in order to sit down and first have a look over the latest intelligence update on Dominion activity within the sector. Her eyes barely glanced over the marigold header when she was interrupted by a chirp of her combadge followed by the orotund voice of her first in command, Commander McKenna. “Sir, there is an urgent incoming message from Deep Space Nine.”

 _Deep Space Nine?_ The captain paused before she answered. They had just left the station a few hours ago. She then abruptly tapped her combadge. “Put it through, Commander.” Raymer swiveled to face the widescreen behind her, folding her hands while she waited for the blank, black monitor flicker to life with an image of her old acquaintance. The _Destiny’s_ docking had been very brief, merely to exchange minor personnel and resupply before they were to be on their way to Sector 401, Orellius minor, along with the _Discovery_ , the _Sarasota_ , the _Minvar_ , and the _T’liss_. It was there, they were scheduled for a two month deployment on the front lines. So, what could Captain Sisko want that was so urgent?

Presently, her pupils contracted as the screen suddenly flickered on, revealing an image of a broad-shouldered man with folded hands sitting with the Star Empire logo from the banner of the joint Klingon-Romulan-Federation Alliance poking out from behind the head rest of Ben’s chair, in the background. It was almost comical to see if it were not contrasted by an even stonier than usual look from his old friend. A frown tugged at the corners of Raymer’s lips, but she broke the momentary silence with one of her well-practiced warmth and ease. “Ben!” She smiled. “Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

“Emily… I didn’t expect it myself. Good to speak with you again, nevertheless.” Sisko rumbled in a deceptively soft brontide greeting. For the benefit of those Benjamin knew well, he softened the smooth bass of his ‘captain’s voice’, but there was always a hint of a greater presence behind his words. A faint smile had graced Ben’s features, but it now faded. “I need a ship with Trill personnel on board to be at the station as soon as possible and the closest vessel is yours.”

Raymer’s brow furrowed. She had her orders and, as far as she knew, they still stood. But if this was a medical or another matter of urgency… “We’re due to rendezvous with the _Discovery_ at Orellius Minor.” She began, serving to remind her colleague of that importance, but kept it brief when she noted a flicker of agitation in Ben’s brow. _Straight to the point._ She steepled his index fingers. “What’s this about?”

“You’re going to be taking a symbiont back to Trill.” Ben’s reply was measure, but his tone had a measure of tightness to it. If Raymer did not know any better, it seemed a personal matter, but her immediate reaction was a slow nod of understanding.

 _Ah._ She settled forward in her seat a little more. “I understand. We can be there within six hours.”

“Thank you, Emily.” No, Raymer was sure that she was not imagining it, now. Ben was not one for showing his cares easily, especially these days. Had they had time to catch up and Ben suggested a little game of poker, Emily would have flatly declined. But now the corners of the eyes of the erstwhile stone-faced captain softened in relief.

As delicately as she was able to, she put the weighty, yet expected, query to Ben quietly amid a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Can I ask which symbiont?”

The Starfleet Captain and Emissary to the Prophets blinked back before answering. “The _Dax_ symbiont…”

Jadzia Dax. His science officer. A brilliant mind and a promising officer. Raymer remembered how striking a woman Jadzia was when she first met her back in ’70 not just in looks, which of course, she had to tease Benjamin about, but in her carriage. She would have made a fine captain one day. Confident, intelligent, sharp-witted— Raymer had always heard good things and what she had saw confirmed all of it and more. It was a damn shame… a damn shame. Raymer could not mitigate the sudden tightness in her chest even if she wanted to try.

“My condolences on the loss of a fine officer, Ben.” Even with the care she took to place weight in her words, perhaps her reply could have been warmer, and it was warmer than most condolence offerings these days, but loss was everywhere now and many fine officers and brass had met their deaths in battle. Thirty-six under her command to-date.

Now the man before her paused, mask still in place, and the silence was seemingly stretched for more than its actual length of two heartbeats. Stretched and filled, to Raymer, however with the jutting reminder of how an individual should deserve all the grief they could give. And yet, duty prevented Ben from sharing in it with an old friend. At length, it then seemed, Ben responded again in a hushed rumble. “Thank you, old friend. Sisko out.”

As Raymer blinked away the fading afterimage of of Ben’s outline, her thoughts turned toward the station, five years ago. Images of their faces marched across her mind. Ben, fresh-faced with a toothy grin stepping aside to introduce his science officer, a tall woman in her late twenties. Jadzia’s lips were pursed in a gentle smirk she could not or did not quite with to retain. Raymer could never be sure whether it was one or another. But it was the eyes that were unforgettable, piercing in their frankly mischievous wisdom. It had been a good thing that Kahlee had not been with her or she would not have had an earful that evening at the way she had paused, captivated, as she slowly extended a hand in greeting. And the Trill’s wry look had told Emily that she knew and they were going to be fun… and like hell she would escape. She had known it too—knew she was instantly a fan and could not find fault with Dax’s brand of fun and games. The woman had an air of mystery around her and Emily marveled that with many faceted expressions, Dax still had aces a plenty up her sleeves. Quite literally, too, she had come to find out. Some past host had taken up sleight of hand. Was it Tobin? Torias? Torvin? Ah, _Trill_. She blinked forcefully. Despite how fascinating they were, the Joined were sometimes a headache to think about and their whole society was still one large mystery, albeit a seemingly benign one. They were a friendly and enlightened people, individuals similar in many ways to humans, but cautious and reclusive as a government…

Realizing that her thoughts had wandered and that she was staring blankly at the screen, frozen stiff in her chair, Raymer slapped her palms to her knees and swiftly rose from her chair to walk around the desk and exit the ready room to the main bridge. Commander McKenna rose from the command seat upon site. “Captain.” He nodded firmly.

“As you were, Commander.” Raymer belayed her first-in-command’s relief, and he nodded back fractionally while resuming the command seat. The captain turned to walk a few paces over to the helm, placing a hand lightly on the back of its seat as she looked out into the blank void of the view screen before her. “Ensign Bradley.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Set a new course for Deep Space Nine.” Raymer’s hand paused slightly before it altogether slid from the back of the seat as she turned around to walk away. “Warp Factor Eight.”

Without needing to look, she knew that a flicker of confusion passed and was gone in the blink of an eye over the majority of faces. A testament to humanoid nature. McKenna’s eyes snapped to his superior’s, watching her inquiringly as Bradley readily answered. “Aye sir, changing course.”

Halfway to her chair, Raymer tapped her combadge. “Doctor T’pek, please report to my ready room.” Now McKenna leaned forward a little more in his seat, hands lightly bracing either side of the arm rests, but his body tensed to move at a second’s notice.

“Acknowledged.” Came the Vulcan’s modulated bass over combadge as Raymer turned to McKenna and nodded at him before leaning slightly onto her left side to make a turn in the direction of her ready room to the aft of the bridge where the old conference room of the galaxy class used to be. Where there had been an intense curiosity, it was now gone in place of one of understanding at the silent communique. He was to join his captain in ten minutes. As soon as the doors had closed, Raymer tapped her badge once again. “Ensigns Tigan and Finnok, report to my ready room.”

Ten minutes later, McKenna calmly rose. Fitting his hands behind his back, he raised his chin. “Lieutenant Kedair, you have the bridge.” He ordered crisply, and without a second look for acknowledgement, he swiveled toward the ready room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Elsewhere on the _Destiny_** , a twenty-two-year-old Trill man playing Spring ball with a Bajoran officer and a twenty-one-year-old woman in the middle of a counseling session answered their respective summons and headed to the nearest turbolift that would take them to the main bridge. On her way to the lift, Ezri suddenly jumped when she felt someone tug on her ponytail. “Ah!” A hand flew to her chest as she turned, then eyes promptly letting out a grunt of annoyance. “Deltana.”

A Beta Coridan woman with sandy blonde hair, greeted her with a grin and raised eyebrows. “Aren’t you supposed to be with a patient right now?” The ensign quirked a brow.

“Actually,” Ezri began as she resumed her brisk walk. “I have a summons to come to the bridge.”

“Uh-oh, Tigan, what did you do?” Deltana intoned as she side-eyed her roommate with a grin.

“Nothing.” Ezri now cracked a smile as she intoned likewise, but did not venture further. She hoped it was nothing… but then, what was about to come out of her roommate’s lips was already on her mind.

“Uh-huh…” Deltana clicked her tongue as the doors to a turbolift appeared around the next corner. “Right. Like you and Finnok haven’t made report yet.” She teased.

Ezri exhaled a breathy chuckle. “We haven’t done it anywhere with _restricted_ clearance like you suggested... if that’s what you mean.”

“Tch,” Deltana huffed mildly. “There goes my chance to find out if they let prisoners have conjugal visits with each other.” Ezri gave her an absurd look as the doors hissed open and an operations officer squeezed by with a mumbled ‘Excuse me.’

“Anyway.” She angled Deltana a mock critical look and a pursed smile. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Just then a figure appeared rushing around the corner to the small corridor. “Hold the lift!”

“Speak of the devil.” Her roommate whispered and gave her another lift of her eyebrows before walking away. “Finok.” She nodded still with traces of amusement on her face.

“Deltana.” He smirked back. Whatever those two girls were talking about, it probably had just involved him if her features where any indication. But there was Ezri, waiting ahead by casually leaning against the threshold of the lift as he jogged to catch up.

“Ensign Finok.” Nodding, she addressed him with a false ring of formality in her voice accented by her mildly mischievous grin when he had caught up to the door. “Ensign Tigan.” He replied likewise, while crossing into the lift while tugging on his collar and his sleeves. Curt and formal to the last on the surface, but anyone could see that the look exchanged between the pair spoke of more. Very good friends a person on the outside might think, but most of the crew knew what they were to each other.

“You were playing spring ball, weren’t you.” She said, as the doors hissed shut. It was more statement than question considering how she peered at him appraisingly.

“How’d you figure?” He asked, rhetorically as he stepped close to her. Finok leaned in to give her a kiss and she smiled delightfully in return. “So,” Ezri began in an upbeat tone. “Where are you headed?”

Finok looked up, giving his answer as a command to start the turbolift. “Main bridge.” He stated clearly, then looked back down to watch as surprise splashed an iridescent glow into his love’s cerulean eyes as the lift whirred to life.

“Me too.” She replied, with that same slight pause at the end as she had given her roommate. As Ezri wondered if this really did have anything to do with their relationship, Finok blinked, coming around to the same line of thought. He had wondered why she had not bothered to tell the computer where she needed to go and was about to gently remind her that she was spacing again when she set all of that to rest.

“Really?” A he asked after a short pause, and now another followed. “Did the captain call you?” His voice sounded uneasy and the moment he asked the question, hers became uneasy as well.

“Yep, you?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I just got a combadge summons…”

 _Is this about our relationship? I thought we were keeping things discreet…_ Their minds chorused unbeknownst to each other. While they were of the same rank and, therefore, it was not against regulation, at any time, either could move up to lieutenant junior grade requiring the relationship to be ended. It just was not a very good idea, both knew, and both claimed that they each knew the risks and were prepared for that eventuality. Both had known that as much as they liked each other, it was now or never to take the leap. At least this way, they would have had time together to know what it felt like to be together. Regret at never having made the choice might seemed, at the time, like it would feel a whole lot worse than ending the relationship while still serving around one another. The tension had gotten to the point where it was inevitable to talk about it, either way, and this is where their talk had led that day. They had been old friends at the Academy and Ezri’s mother had taken a liking to him, as did her brothers. For a time, it helped her relationship with her mother, though Yanas still made her disapproval clear that Ezri was in Starfleet and as was her choice of beau. When Finok was not around, Ezri felt that, in her own clandestine way, Yanas wanted to make sure her daughter knew it was a bad choice to have made, career-wise as well. “At least go for a civilian on one of those _Sovereign_ -class star ships. Don’t they have plenty of nice, young civilian boys—“ (A sigh.) “-- _or_ girls to go around?” She remembered her mother once saying. Yanas preferred Ezri to date a man, but her daughter had dated other women. It was not at all a peculiarity for Trill, but Yanas wished for blood-related grandchildren some day to take over the family business. Although it made Ezri fume every time she thought about it, she could not bring herself to damn her mother as tyrannical, or backward. Overbearing, yes. Overprotective, and calculating, yes, but it came from a desire to help Ezri to see what was for her own good, the prodigal daughter recognized. Yanas believed it so fiercely that that was what lay at the heart of her disappointment, but Ezri was equally as firm in her own belief that her mother needed to learn that she had her own life to live. If Ezri chose not to argue, it was because she had her own independence already and Yanas would never listen to words anyway.

“I had to cut my session short.” Ezri decided a bit of good news to brighten the somber mood cast by the nervousness they both felt. “I was actually flying solo this time.”

“Oh yeah? That’s great, Zee.” He managed to smile softly, but as they looked at each other, hoping that the other may have thought the summons was purely a coincidental matter, unfortunately, they found they had been anticipating the same thing. It was then that Finok cleared his throat. “So... what do you think the Captain wants to see us about?”

Bless him, Ezri thought, he always resumed exhibiting smooth features no matter what the news was. Even his shoulders appeared loosened. Yet he still had a open and honest look about him, true to the emotions that he was feeling. Right now, it was nervousness, though not a twitchy nervousness that magnified her own. In an odd way, there was a certain tranquility about him despite his nervousness that helped to make her feel more at ease with her own. As soon as she felt that tiny release within her, her smile brightened, forehead and eyes relaxing. “I don’t know. “ She replied in a teasing tone, catching Finok’s eyes again. “Maybe Ensign Bradley snitched about us making out in Jefferies tube thirteen yesterday.”

His lips twitched at that. Likewise, “Zee” had a way with humor that could touch a person’s heart and make their cares an easier burden to carry. Sometimes, if he let her, she even made it feel enjoyable to carry them. Through her, he had learned that it was all a state of mind. It sounded ridiculous when it came from her lips, first. So simple, and easier said than done by far. But when he saw how much she desired to help people and help change that perception, he had to commend her for it. Later, when Brinner actually allowed himself to consider what counselors do and how stressful it is to serve on and run a star ship, command a crew, look out for its safety, and maintain a certain standard of professionalism even off duty, it struck him that he had severely misunderstood the importance of having an emotional anchor there to help one keep oneself from drifting too far into a certain mindset –even seemingly harmless ones. Especially those.

When she first told him that she was thinking of pursuing counseling, he thought it was wonderful that she wanted to become a healer and became surprised when a few of their human friends thought she had been joking. Even in the 24th century, the mental health profession still had its stigmas. Much of several major mainstream cultures tended to glorify and favor competitive survivalist and intellectual mindsets. Klingons, Humans, _Romulans_. A spectrum measuring fields by their ‘purity’ for hard science designated a top down preference for ‘hard’ sciences over ‘soft’. Those at the top tended to put themselves first while putting others down, a fear-driven response to the ‘soft’ sciences rising in importance and leveling the playing field. Not everyone shared this mindset, but several wanted to keep their prestige because they felt themselves the ones who truly earned it, what with their fields being the notoriously more difficult to grasp, requiring longer hours to be put into study when that was a very common misconception and led to symptoms of overworking, causing more stress to one’s life. A sense of entitlement was born and thus they longed to keep the hierarchy in place. Several on both sides of the spectrum despised the other: one for being cold and the other for being so 'touchy-feely' as humans tended to put it. Ezri wanted to be the bridge, meet them halfway because no society, no matter how small or large, could function without a balance of both. It was her job to remind either side of that and to help them co-exist harmoniously even knowing that they would not and graciously accepting that.

Her wry brand of kindness and empathy taught him that minds could get so stuck sometimes in their ways. Trivializing or dismissing the notion altogether was the hardest symptom to overcome and days turned into months, which could turn into years, before someone experienced a true hadiwist. ‘Wow, if only I hadn’t been so stubborn and narrow-minded, I could have seen that he was hurting. If only I hadn’t been so obsessed with receiving the highest marks or living up to someone else’s certain set of standards.” Discounting when it was appropriate to one’s career, however, especially in a military. These things happened all of the time and beyond one’s control sometimes, but too much of a rut of any singular mentality and they continued to occur in frequency, often intensity. This occurred to him one day when he went to visit her just after she was finished counseling a patient, and on the wall in the office, there was a plaque behind her desk. He remembered it because it had struck him as rather odd. He had thought that she was not a religious person, but a human religion? It read: _“God grant me the grace to accept the things I cannot change, to have the courage to change the things I am able to, and to have the wisdom to know the difference.”_ But despite that it invoked a deity, he immediately resonated with the message. Maybe she had put it there for that reason. Religion had nothing to do with it nor did its presence automatically denigrate the message. Many religions sometimes found more beautiful ways to express emotional resonances than others and he found that he could appreciate this.

“Maybe. Or maybe we’re _both_ getting a promotion.” He countered softly.

“If that’s the case, then we both know it’s me.” She sounded so wisely confident, he thought, as her hands claimed the sides of his face. With a soft smirk, he directed his lips downward to the curve of her jaw and brushed her soft skin.

A gradual deceleration pulled him from his thoughts, and they withdrew a respectable distance, sharing one last smile before keeping the glare of their pearly whites under wraps. But their composure ended abruptly when the turbolift doors opened again. Ezri moved forward, as if to walk to the conference room, momentarily forgetting, just as Finok took a step to the right, toward the captain’s ready room. A near tangle of limbs ended up on the carpet as several crew members looked up with raised eyebrows when they heard the audible scuffle. The pair quickly recovered themselves, uttering a soft apology to the nearer crew before exchanging glances. Ezri’s apologetic, his muted amusement and a look that did not mistake for a moment that their friends would hear about it later. A piercing glance channeling a desire to swat him was the only recourse for retaliation at the moment with the whole bridge crew watching their descent down the ramp toward the captain’s ready room. When the two reached his door, Finok gestured for Ezri to enter first and followed in behind her. The Ensigns' faces were straight, perfectly presentable now in front of two of the senior staff and the captain himself, sitting behind his desk. To the left stood Doctor T’Pek and in front of the desk, off to the right, sat Commander McKenna.

All three looked at the Ensigns with cool expectancy and the duo came to a halt, side-by-side, with a professional distance remaining between them. They nodded, chorusing together. “Captain.”

“Ensigns.” Captain Raymer rose and gestured to the couch. “Sit down, please.”

They were seated while the captain made her way around the desk. There was some stiffness in her stride, Ezri noted, as she sat down slowly. The two ensigns then remained in respectful silence as they waited for their superior to brief them.

Presently, Doctor T’Pek joined the captain in moving closer to the duo and completing a circle nearer to his commanding officer while Raymer perched on the front of her desk and began. “No doubt you’re wondering why we’ve called you here and, don’t worry, it isn’t because of your… relationship.” She raised her brows.

Immediately, the two looked down, side-eyeing each other briefly, then back up at the captain, chins a little lower than they were before.

“I said don’t worry.” She repeated, lightly, cracking a smile for their benefit. “You will have to square with that when one of you is promoted. Now.” Getting down to business, she raised her folded hands as she shifted her weight on the edge of the glass desk to face them more squarely. “We have reversed course to Deep Space Nine because we are going to be transporting a symbiont back to Trill. As I understand it, if something goes wrong, God forbid, that’s where you two come in and one of you will become a temporary host, if not a permanent one before we reach Trill.”

Though muted from being in the presence of their superiors, cracks of awe and surprise appeared on the young Trills’ faces. Discomfort was completely erased in the light of this news. But the veneer of professionalism had its limits for a Trill who knew how rare and significant a transport this would be. Ezri found her heart rate accelerating as the captain looked at her, but Raymer’s eyes settled first on Finok. Ezri’s brow furrowed lightly at this. Was that a twinge of jealousy? It was too brief and the situation too demanding of her attention for her to take proper note.

The captain continued, looking only at Finok now and Ezri turned her gaze onto her peer as well, for only a peer he was in the here and now, in this room. “Ensign Finok, I understand that you had some… initiate training, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.” Ezri’s brow twitched instantaneously, remarking at how Finok’s tone struck her as focused… _intent_. As did the way his eyelids dilated and contracted again. Was it her imagination, or was there eagerness in his mien? Puzzled, she recalled how he had told her that he, just as she, never had any serious ambitions to be joined. It had been his parents’ wish that he at least try, so he had applied and was accepted, but his heart just was not in it. Not with the incessant tests and the pressure everyone put on themselves to vie for one of the symbionts. Although he thought he understood significance of having a symbiont, the cost of the pressure one put on oneself did not seem worth the prize. He had seen many sobbing brokenly when they were told that they had not made it to the next level of testing. Some collapsed entirely, telling him they had spent their whole lives dedicated to becoming a suitable host and now they were disgraced and left feeling empty. What they did not know is that they had been feeling empty before they had even come to the Symbiosis Commission, had carried it around for years, but now were finally and abruptly forced to face it. When they had dropped him early on, he had not gotten around to telling Ezri yet, was that he had had a slight change in heart. It was not until he was denied the thing, that he realized how much further he wanted to go. At least, he had hoped to be considered a serious applicant. But in any case, that was that, and there was no re-applying, unlike with the famous Jadzia Dax. Starfleet Academy had proven to be a good fit and looked to be a fulfilling career, so he was not terribly upset, he had said, as though it really implied that he was not upset at all.

Her eyes lingered on Finok’s eyes, shifting in realization of what this could mean until the captain’s voice pealed like a thunderclap to her ears. “While I understand that you, Ensign Tigan, have had none.”

“Yes… sir.” What began as an almost taut, defensive pause, was clamped down on at the end in a purely professional tone. To Raymer, these were only formalities. Of course, she had read their files and knew what the responses would be, already. The captain nodded, barely sparing Ezri a glance, and turned back to Finok again. The commander did the same, but the doctor’s gaze lingered for a moment longer than the others’ on Ezri, unbeknownst to her.

“Very well.” Raymer said after a palpable pause of consideration. “Ensign Finok. You are now temporarily relieved of all duties until further notice and you are to report to Sickbay at the doctor’s behest. Is that clear?” She asked, fixing him a grave look. Brinner nodded in understanding, unsure of why the captain was giving him the third degree until McKenna grin.

“That means laying off the spring ball for a little while.” He supplied as the captain cracked a grin of her own.

Chuckles were heard from four of the room’s occupant’s as Finok’s spots darkened nicely. “Yes, sir.” The Trill chimed with a smile.

“And doctor,” the captain addressed her CMO as he turned to him, “you will be working with Ensign Finok to prep him in case he will need to become a host to the Dax symbiont.”

“Yes, sir.” T’pek nodded, then addressed Finok. “Ensign, I will expect you to be present in Sickbay at fourteen hundred hours.”

“I’ll be there, sir.” The Vulcan gave Finok a wan lift of an eyebrow and the ensign instantly knew it would be best to postpone finishing his spring ball match indefinitely.

Once more, Emily Raymer turned to the young woman. “Now Ensign Tigan.” Ezri turned from her observation of Brinner to find that the captain was looking at her searchingly. Daunted and unprepared for the examining stare, her pupils dilated for a moment, T’Pek noted, before she held the gaze steady and assumed a relaxed visage. If the captain noted it as well, she gave no indication. “You’re not quite out of the thick yet. You will remain on duty but be prepared if that changes in case Ensign Finok here decides to go anti-grav sailing in the holosuites with the safeties off.” Finok grinned at that, the latter shaking his head to indicate _‘As if I’d do that’_.

There, another twinge. This time, Ezri could not ignore it, but did not have any time to think on it, for with that, the captain rose, and, as if on silent cue, those that were seated followed suit. “Alright, then. We will be at Deep Space Nine in under six hours. You all have your orders… dismissed.” Raymer nodded to the three in front of her.

A collective nod was given before Commander McKenna and the ensigns filed out of the ready room. McKenna stepped in line with Finok and ushering him to the nearest turbolift, while Ezri paused, head turning minutely, as if hoping to catch Finok’s eyes before he left. He did not turn back and she began to turn, assuming to walk up the ramp toward the aft lift, but the doors had closed before she began to take her first step. T’Pek noted all of this from where he remained in the ready room.

“Something on your mind, Doctor?” The captain asked without looking up from her PADD.

There was a pause before he gave his answer. “No, sir.” T’Pek nodded and exited the ready room. Raymer looked up from the PADD containing Ezri’s file just as her CMO turned and watched his retreating back until the doors slid shut behind it. Her thumbs tapped the metal sides of the device as her vision unfocused for a moment. With a sudden shift, she snapped herself out of it and hovered placed the PADD down. That was when she finally noticed her coffee again and touched the mug. Another one gone cold. Two for two this morning.


End file.
